Traditions Change
by KerriKezzbox
Summary: Based after Shepherds Crown (some spoilers). Something is wrong, Nanny Ogg knows it, Tiffany knows it, Geoffrey knows it and even Jeanie Feagle knows it!What does it have to do with Unseen University though!
1. Chapter 1

_A Note From The Author: Hello everyone, I was introduced to the Discworld at a young age, it being my mother's favourite series of books, and Sir Terry being her favourite author. Over time, he also became mine. When Terry died I was distraught, I wrote tributes and expressed my sorrow, but have since struggled with a severe writer's block. This is my first attempt to write a Discworld fanfiction, so please bare with me. I just hope that I can do Sir Terry Pratchett's wonderful work and unique writing style justice. Thank you for reading and giving me a chance to prove myself._

 **Chapter One: A New Kind of Headology**

Tiffany Aching stood, as she had done many times before, in a small clearing of Lancre forest. It was _the_ clearing, flowers had grew over and bloomed quietly over the unmarked grave of Mistress Esmeralda Weatherwax, a woman who had come to be known to those she had come to call friends, as Granny. Tiffany remembered the first time she had met Granny Weatherwax, the unofficial head of the witches* had _bowed_ to her. Tiffany had thrown the Queen of the Fairies out of their world and off _her_ land, and Granny Weatherwax had bowed to her, and given her a special hat that only she knew was there. It was a long time ago, Tiffany thought, and now close to her twentieth birthday she was spending more time remembering. Tiffany had inherited Granny's steading, which was now being looked after by Geoffrey, the young man that decided he wanted to be a witch. Tiffany had dubbed him the Calm-Weaver, as a comfort to those who found traditions and habits difficult things to break. Geoffrey was albeit male, undoubtedly a witch, and a bloody good one too.

"Thought I might find you 'ere, Tiff!" The cheery tone of Nanny Ogg was muted in the clearing. Granny Weatherwax was still here in spirit, and far be it for Gytha Ogg to disrupt her grave with noise. Tiffany refused to let Nanny's sudden appearance startle her, or at least, refused to let NannyOgg _see_ that she'd startled her. "Nearly another anniversary Nanny, how long has it been now?" Tiffany's voice sounded weary, as if she hadn't slept in a week. "Three years? Four? Not doin' so well at the rememberin' in me old age." Nanny didn't sound much better, as of late her elbows had been playing up, trying to tell her that something bad was happening. But they'd shut the Fairies out of the Discworld years ago, and Granny had beaten the bad vampires _and_ her evil sister Lilith Weatherwax over in Genua, so what was left?

Tiffany Aching and Nanny Ogg walked quietly along the track towards Geoffrey's cottage* "Something's happening Nanny. Things are changing on the Chalk and something wants to use it to their advantage. Something bad is coming, I can feel it in my boots.*" "Aye, Tiff. Can't say I know what it is, but I feel it too." Tiffany sighed, listening to the quiet, comforting sussurus that slipped through the trees of Lancre forest. "The Chalk is worried, Nanny. More than when the Queen came, more than even when Peaseblossom lead the raid." Nanny nodded solemnly, as a feeling of severe anxiety knotted itself into a ball in the pit of her stomach.

Geoffrey was feeding Mephistopheles as the ladies boots crunched on the leaves of the path into the garden. A witch never needed a fence on her garden, no one would dare to cross a witch, specially not one with a pet like Mephistopheles. A clever goat, Geoffrey had trained him to count and even use the privy, but he was a fierce guard goat if his master was ever threatened. "Hello ladies!" Geoffrey's voice failed him as he tried to ignore his uncomfortable gut feeling. "Petulia's doing well." He stated, trying to distract Nanny Ogg before she pounced on the tone of his voice. "The twins came without too much trouble. She was built for it, I must say." Petulia was a witch just like them, but she had a rather peculiar speciality, she was referred to as a Pig-Borer* by some and as The Pig Witch, by others who, quite frankly, were much less kind than Geoffrey. As a result of her prowess with pigs, she had married a pig farmer, and had given birth to twins, one girl and one boy. Her husband had decided that Curiosity was a good name for their son, staying true to the old Lancrastian naming traditions*. Petulia had decided to call their daughter Prudence, after her grandmother, believing it to be a good strong name.

"Have your old boys picked up on anythin' Geoffrey?" Nanny asked, fearing the answer. Geoffrey had good relationships with the old men of the Ramtops, he'd introduced them to sheds, little things just for their hobbies and to get them out from under their wives feet. As Geoffrey was about to respond a small flash of blue and red caught the corner of his eye. "Ye stop righ' there ye scunners!" A small blue man froze, his red hair a mess of braids, feathers and beads. "Ach crivens! Ye be doin' the seein' well master hag!" said Rob Anybody, big man of the Chalk clan of the Nac Mac Feegles. Tiffany laughed loudly, plenty used to the Feegles following her around by now, it was ten years ago when she'd first met them, and since being their Kelda temporarily, they had been watching over her ever since. "Jeanie sent me, ye ken. Said somethin' is comin', but she disnae ken wha' it is yet." Rob looked worried as Tiffany looked at him with dismay, she was afraid of this. "Let me guess, Rob." Tiffany began "she's asked to see one or all of us?" Rob nodded glumly "Aye, yer right enough Mistress. All o' ye this time. 'Tis nae a good thing Jeanie is feelin', I am afeared for our mound, ye ken. She's just had our second girl, Mistress. 'Twas always said tae be impossible, Mistress." Tiffany gasped with surprise, as she ran for her broom, shouting over her shoulder for the others to do the same.

As the three witches rose into the air on their brooms, with Feegles hanging from the bristles, something stirred.

I say unofficial because as everyone knows, witches didn't technically _have_ a leader. If they had they would have eagerly agreed that it was Granny Weatherwax. Even if they _did_ only agree because of the sharpness of Granny's stare.

Tiffany still found herself referring to it as _Granny's_ Cottage, but it had recently gotten easier not to do so. Out loud at least.

Nanny paid great heed to what her body told her, her left kidney had always been good at warning her of bad happenings many times. Tiffany however, felt things in her boots.

Yes, she did literally bore pigs to death. She also found her talent useful for the Elves when they'd tried to invade.

Tiffany was surprised that there still failed to be a Chlamydia Weaver wandering around the Ramtops.

The Kelda of a Feegle clan was always the only woman in the mound, she'd leave her home and find a new clan, pick a husband and have hundreds of tiny Feegle babies, but usually only one girl. Like bees, it never ended well if there was more than one woman in a clan, they resembled too many witches all shoved together. An enormous bloody argument.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: Thank you for reading my last chapter, I hope you all enjoyed it. Please feel free to review, ask questions or PM me for a chat._

 **Chapter Two: The Downlands.**

The Feegle mound was silent as Jeanie, plumper than ever, paced nervously around the fire, a tiny baby girl cradled in her arms. Maggie, her teenage daughter looking on with her brothers, a worried frown across her small delicate features. Maggie had decided when she was very young that she didn't want to be a Kelda, and she didn't want to leave her clan, she wanted to fight, drink and steal alongside her brothers instead. Something no Feegle woman had ever done before. "What's gaein' ain mammy?" her voiced cracked, fear saturating it. "I dinnae ken, Maggie. We must be waitin' for our hag, ye ken. She'll ha'e the kennin' of what tae dae." There was a few subdued cries from the back of the Feegle crowd "Ach waily waily, the Kelda doesnae ken wha' tae dae, lads. 'Tis a bad day indeed when our Kelda doesnae ha'e the kennin'." Jeanie's eyes flashed briefly with anger as she searched out the complainer in the crowd. "Ye boys listen tae yer Kelda now, ye ken. There be hard times comin', but I dinnae yet ha'e the kennin' of wha' they be or how they're tae be caused this time. I can hear the land, yeh ken, 'tis nae a happy thing."

By the standing stones, now ringed with swarf, three broomsticks touched down on the hills. Nanny was still laughing, they'd flew over the long man while leaving Lancre and just as her giggles and euphemisms has subsided, she'd caught sight of the giant of the Chalk, it was surprisingly anatomically correct. She'd nearly fallen off her broom. Rob Anybody landed with a thump on to the turf as he let go of Tiffany's bristles, his swearing muffled by the turf. He quickly got up and dusted himself off, dashing down into the Feegle mound to alert Jeanie of the witches arrival. A breeze began to blow across the hill, biting into Tiffany's skin, a sudden cold enveloping the group, and totally out of place for a summer's day. Mephistopheles bleated loudly, catching Geoffrey's attention. Mephistopheles never made noises like that, least of all if something strange was going on. "Are you alright?" Concern etched it's way across his face as he stroked the goats head, desperately searching the distressed goat for the cause. "There be somethin' out a place alright, Tiff" Nanny began, her gaze fixed on a black dot in the sky. "I reckon we have company, too."

Miss Perspicia Tick was flying her broom as fast as she dared, one hand gripping the handle of her unreliable stick, the other hand was clinging desperately to her hat, fighting the wind as much as possible. Something had told her to come and see Tiffany, though she wasn't sure what or why. And, as she landed clumsily on the turf of the Chalk she let go of her hat, finally letting it fall off her head. "That broom is getting worse, Miss Tick." Tiffany said as she bowed. "You should go see the dwarfs in Ankh-Morpork, they did wonders with Geoffrey's when we got Granny's mended for him." Miss Tick nodded, "I just haven't had the time, Tiffany. There seems to be more young women with a potential for witchcraft than I've ever seen. Something is coming, there's only ever a surge in recruits like this if there's a battle to be won. The animals are acting strange too and all the old creatures are being seen again." Tiffany looked confused "Old creatures?" Miss Tick nodded, and Nanny answered "Yep, the old creatures aren't often seen anymore Tiff, centaurs and the like, you know. But they usually make an appearance if there's going to be a problem."

Feegles begun to pour out of the top of the mound, hundreds of tiny blue men swarmed around the four witches* "I wasnae expectin' ye, Miss Tick." said Jeanie as a path in the crowd opened around her. There was a muttering from some of the older Feegles, they didn't trust the teaching hag. The Feegles were always taught, until quite recently, that words were dangerous and a man who had your name written down, could have a body in prison or worse, set the lawyers on a man. "Tiffan, there's a change comin', but I cannae see where 'tis comin' from. 'Tis a bad sign to ha'e a second girl born to a single Feegle Kelda. 'Tis a sign that extra power will be needed, ye ken." Tiffany nodded, the anger starting to build, these were _her_ Feegles and they lived on _her_ land, near _her_ shepherding hut. This would _not_ do.Tiffany thought of the one phrase she always came back to when the Disc was in danger. _There would be a reckoning!_

To the shock of Miss Tick, who'd only ever seen them a couple of times before.


End file.
